Why We Can't Give Em Too Much

Critics ask me why I don't dress up and look the part of the businessman every day of the week. Why don't I shave and get haircuts regularly? Well, first of all, I'm a firm believer in not looking too good. If I did that, I'd hardly ever be able to chill what from all the attention. :-) Second of all, it's timely and expensive, and I'm not lazy, but I don't have all that much time to be investing in my appearance. Lastly, I know what they want me to do. They want me to look my best so they can slam the door in my face while I'm looking dapper, demoralize me, and emasculate me. They want me to rely on my fading looks to get me the job, the girl, the deal, the nod, so that when my looks eventually fail me, I have nothing to fall back on. No character, no charisma, no charm. But once again, I'm ten steps ahead of them.

When I was a freshman in college, I wore my glasses for the first week of school. It was a strategic play, so as not to fall into the classic trap of new school popularity wars. I went overlooked, unseen by the ladies, and non-threatening to the men. Then I shaved my head and put in my contacts, and it was like there was a new kid on the quad. I started getting invited to activities, to parties, to study groups. Granted, it was just a week of glasses, but it was noticeable. Performing this social experiment allowed me to realize that people really do put stock, and way to much of it, in appearance, especially at the college age. As we grow older, the stock is in appearance only in certain superficial circumstances: the club, random parties, the subway. It's an excuse to be caddy, superficial, and shallow - and to dress up of course. I tend to stay away from these situations as much as possible: not because I can't dress up with the best of them, but because I'm careful not to give em too much.

The case for appearance is known. What I don't know is what I need to find out. How much harnessing are they willing to do to counterbalance the new world order? How many of our dances, trains, shimmies, and bojangles will they take for themselves and try to incorporate into their narrow avatars? How long has this been going on? I can only speculate at this point, but with blondie leading the way, how many of our special moves have they tried to claim: is the white world'd creativity and execution that mundane that they have to sample black genius to make up for their own shortcomings? And do they really think that transferring a flash of brilliance accounts for transferring ability? I submit that their harnessing capabilities are built upon an unbalanced and un-proveable equation and that the experiment will and must backfire upon them shortly. Case in point, if I developed a trendy new way to dance, and it became the in thing, so other people started doing it, have I created something, or started something? Maybe. Is it genius tho? Perhaps, but only If I remain the best at it. Is there any way to own it? No, not if it can be duly duplicated. Emulation is the highest form of flattery. Some younger guns will try to copy and add on, but some older heads (read: certain unskilled gov't cronies) will try to harness it. If Tim Hardaway crosses over Chris Mullin and Mullin falls on his ass, you have just witnessed a case of black genius. And so even when Steve Nash Bridges tries to cross over an opponent, it lacks flavor because he can't quite cross over at the level of Timmy Hardaway. In this sense, with chronology on our side or not, we contiunously, effectively achieve a dual purpose: we demonstrate genius and mastery of our craft; and we precluded duplication by whites by doing it perfectly. This is Jordan, Barkley, James. This is Tiger. This is the Williams Sisters. This is Iconic. This is black genius. Does it relate to more than just sports? Of course, but sports just happen to be the arena where it is most recognizable. I could vamp on a Coltrane riff or a Miles disharmonic solo; the swag of Duke Ellington or Count Bassie in an era of oppression; I could talk to you about Paul W. Caine's cooking or Robert Johnson's business plans; I could discuss Jesus' priesthood or Solomon's interior decorating (watch out now); I could discuss Denzel's acting or the rap game's monopoly (until Eminem). What does it all mean? Black genius is more than just creativity, it's creativity and dominance in action, versus the stiffest competition, overcoming the greatest barriers, solving the worst problems, in the midst of the worst crises. It's Barack Obama. It's the Son of Man. It's the saving grace for our planet and our universe. But when it's exploited by those who recognize it's sheer power and force, it's war.

For those of you who have seen Avatar, equate Cameron's black mineral, the precious stuff that sells for $20M/kilo, is like a rewards system for the native genius that goes on on the planet Pandora. The prayers, the love cycles, the training, the adherence to code and order, each instance is a deposit of this energy-rich compound that some higher power computes. That is part of the reason they protect the Big Tree so vehemently. I hypothesize, that somewhere on this earth, or at least in the universe, there is an allegorical compound, whether you think it's oil or gold or what, it's out there, and it's a direct corollary to the genius and adherence to order that we show. But just like our historic roots, this material is being exploited by the white man. Our way, has become perverted, stigmatized, racially profiled, exaggerated, and sensationalized to stand for nothing but a reactive proletariat, grasping for something true. The tragedy is that we've fallen into this trap in the first place, and I can see it now....I can! Just writing I have been able to flesh out some details of their plan. I can see them wanting us to work for their lunch, to shine their shoes for their nickel, when nickel is a word used for a precious metal, but it's a little different (with a condescending pat on the head). How, if we try to hog the resources we become crabs in a barrel; how if we try to sell out we turn our back on the community and get castigated; how the righteous thing to do is teach for minimum wage; how the last woman on earth actually is a black girl born with AIDS so she can't procreate; how STD's run rampant in our communities as a result of their experimentation with free love; how drug selling and hustling is how we use our creative and business prowess, something illegal and targeted by the government; how we're socialized into prison laboratories for further study; how we're put on the front lines for the continued conflict resolution scenarios known as wars. But notice how if we try to copy what they've done, we'll fail miserably. There is no precedent for what blacks need to do to gain solidarity. There is only a plan and improvisation from that plan. And I'm not going to lay it out right now because it's too precious for some blog. But keep your heart, homey. Support a leader. if there is no leader, make a leader. if there is no radical, make a radical. If there is no conservative, make a conservative. Keep your heart. Keep your directions close to your chest. Keep your blueprints concealed and your DNA sacred. Your roadmap begins with something that is already infinitely more precious and deserving then theirs, and that is why they can't understand you. That is why they want to observe you. But instead of letting it go to your head, duplicate it, work hard for a promotion, and keep it secret. I get it now. I've already said too much. But consider this apprenticeship...renewed.

gentrolicy: what's urs?

Gentrification is a serious consideration: not a threat necessarily, but nothing to take lightly either. The fact that African-Americans will soon no longer be the majority race in Harlem is tragic. What it does is weaken community ties, affect solidarity, affect bootstrapping, affect community-based organizations such as churches. Yes, there is a certain amount of economic development that takes place when gentrification looms large, but that is slow and can be skewed in the favor of the existing majority, that is to say, the white man. Because when a big electrical job needs working, or there is a huge construction site on the row, who gets the contract to do it? Not us. On the other hand, when there is a call in the middle of the night for a police presence, who is the first to be suspected of committing the crime? Us.

Some might argue that without the presence of other, there is no sense of self, and that we’d fight among ourselves. To a certain extent, I agree with that claim. There is usually that crabs in a bucket feel in black neighborhoods, but I submit that this is usually likened to healthy competition, for the best car on the block or the nicest TV set. Maybe if we can start healthfully competing for the highest degree or the most legitimate net worth, we’d be saying something. How about competing for the longest life or the most number of grandchildren who go to college? The quickest member of the community who paid off his debt…The presence of other, this newfound infiltratrion, does nothing but put legitimate citizens on guard in their own communities, guaranteeing a higher level of stress and anxiety from the train to the park bench to the grocery store to the apartment building. We have less in common with these outsiders, and as landlords do not know what they expect. We have to cater to them in order to make them feel comfortable, although most of the time we overlook this fact and leave them out there as pioneers. Let them struggle, we say; let them get lost; let them sweat a little bit out there in the cold streets. But it is just this sweat that makes them feel like they belong, that they have sweat as much as us, that would almost legitimize their very presence.
This new phenomenon, of a personal gentrification policy and stance has been dubbed gentrolicy. It is only now catching on as we realize the need to smoothly integrate businesses, lunch counters, schools, and churches without feeling threatened. If it can happen in Harlem, it can happen anywhere, and the streets need to be ready for it. These brave souls, and yes, I do respect them, are looking for a break on rent, looking to venture into new ground, and looking to plant some seeds of their own. But, and this is big, don’t think that some aren’t out here studying how we move, and groove, and party, and work, and hustle, and grind, and interact with each other. Malcolm X said that “Before there can be any black-white unity there must first be black unity.” Isn’t it true? For instance, most of us are too busy to take note of the various trash offerings of our communities until we step in some dog crap or gum or a candy bar wrapper. Well I’m hear to tell you that allowing white folks into our most sacred communities is just like stepping in that crap, and we must mobilize to keep our own solidarity, focus, and drive despite their presence for 2010.
Now, believe it or not, I’m not a racist, I just believe in getting a few things squared away before we entertain our guests, that’s all. I’m a firm believer in ownership (not slave ownership but ownership of self), solidarity (defined as personal and collective mobilization and responsibility), mobility, and collective economics. Sound familiar? It sounds like Kwanzaa, don’t it? I don’t like the prospects of being hovered in and around by those who don’t identify with these politics and who implicitly seek to undermine them as a result. Many neighborhoods have their own way of dealing with these issues. In Flatbush, you might get lit up by a West Indian vudu witch doctor as a welcoming present into the community (shit, black or white!). In Crown Heights, the Hassidics and the blacks would take turns with you, hazing you until you broke down and submitted. But what’s the process in Harlem? Maybe I should ask some of my white friends who’ve lived there what it feels like at nighttime, or on the way home from work. Oh and don’t get me started on work, cuz while a significant percentage (21%) of able bodied black men aged 22-50 are currently out of work, only 11% of their white counterparts are. But we’re out of work in the cities in which we live and hustle; their out of work out on the farm somewhere. Yet you have the nerve to look at me, like, “get a job, take care of your kids, be a man,” when you get the nod for good, secure, respectable jobs, and while I have to pick up trash and grin about it (hated that commercial)? No way. And you want to move into my neighborhood to “save extra cash.” I know the system is not your fault, but you are the passive beneficiary – allow me to be the re-active proletariat: and by the way, are you the cat who I play ball against at the YMCA, cuz if so, remind me to give you an extra elbow in the ribs the next time you go up for a rebound. Not that violence is going to change anything right now, but sometimes it’s just satisfying in a carnal sense.
I must end with this. I love most people: Black, white, Asian, Native American, West Indian, Indian, etc. and mixed. I see more interracial couples these days than ever before. I smile and just think about when I was in one and what the older heads must have thought about me back then. I try not to judge. And when it comes to neighborhoods, especially neighborhoods in this concrete jungle called NYC, I have full confidence that they have their ways of weeding out the weak links. If I had it my way, we would all have lived together for years in relative peace and harmony. But history has a way of leaving me bitter, so don’t be surprised when that bitterness gets taken out on the descendents of a manipulative and corrupt populous who just happen to try to move next door to me.

To Hip Hop Heads and Haitians, with Love

"I'm sick of feelin impotent watchin the world burn, in the era of apocalypse, waitin my turn." -Immortal Technique

It's crazy how big events can make you feel so small. I mean, when in the booth or in front of the laptop or behind the podium, one can feel so big, so bionic. But when that same person is in the wake of a quake or a plane crash, it's hard to rise up, let alone mutter something inspired. Listening to Immortal Technique and Nas can get any hip hop head hype, but when Biggie says "Blow up like the World Trade" or Im says "burying your fam like a central american earthquake" it can put a lump in your throat immediately. There's something so real and visceral about their words, almost like you can feel the power summoned by the very disaster, or see the images those tragedies created as the words are spat into the microphone. Hip Hop is real life. Prophetic and revisited. Over and over for some real heads. And spat by any and all who can feel it. Real hip hop i guess. And that's why I can stay up late-ish and listen to old records because they convey real life situations and say things that i can't say myself. So with that, I send a hearty heart out to the doctors without borders, to the red cross, to unicef, to the UN, to Obama's administration, and most importantly, to the victims of this natural disaster and those throughout the world.

If, indeed, we are in the age of apocalypse, and hip hop is the voice of the people, maybe we need some more positive prophets. I mean, maybe i do need to pay attention to these holy hop warriors. If it's about praise and not so much worship. I know how to worship on my own (or with instrumental accompaniment). It's the praise that God inhabits...maybe we need some more of that goin up behind the podium, in the booth, or within the halls to even out the burden of proof here. To me, it's a simple equation: sound + words --> (+) or (-) w/ power = inspiration either negative or positive...it can get the asses shakin, or get the tambourines shakin....but what does it do in the face of earthquakin? Ok that was corny, but for real! I can send my donation and put my prayers in, but what can I really do?

As an aside, there should be free trips and free lunches for volunteers when it's time to make the trip(s) down to Haiti.

Brooklyn Museum - Questions re: Who shot rock n roll...

Now, you all know by now that I'm not the type who always needs to be complaining in print. I'd much rather coexist and love life with y'all than the alternative. But there is a time and a place for everything...and right now, i feel like complaining. Now, i've seen my share of the Cadillac Records, Dream Girls, and The Five Heartbeats, and Ray, so I know where rock and roll came from from a Hollywood perspective and beyond. I understand the contributions of greats like Ray Charles, Howlin Wolf and Chuck Berry, Muddy Waters, and Etta James, at least on a superficial level. But nowhere in the vault of Brooklyn Museum's exhibit on Who Shot Rock and Roll do they honor Ray Charles, Muddy Waters, or Howlin Wolf. That's sort of to be expected, but what I did not expect was for them to put a sweaty, screamin lookin version of Tina Turner on the cover of their coffee table book and as the exhibit portrait. She looks terrible...for Tina. They had postcards where she was mid performance or posing for the camera where she looked oh so tasteful. My problem with it is this, she's an icon for black females, and for black pop/rock artists. Just as Elvis is an icon for the white rock 'n' roll "movement." But get this, not once, do they show Elvis, who is front and center for much of the exhibit, with as much as a hair out of place. He is perfectly coiffed, debonair, laid back, obviously posing - even his rendition of Heartbreak Hotel was a performance, and calmly if suggestively done with his modified crazy legs basic ass pelvic pump. And the girls go wild. Cat was type smooth. But not once do you see him break a sweat, lose a curl or get too loose...meanwhile Tina is Centerstage lookin like she been on stage for two hours givin her all to the camera and moreover, the fans. the juxtaposition is priceless man. Their heroes, our heroes. Personally, i'm like fuck it, just give Elvis the cover and give Tina two pages, one well done and neat and crisp, the other sweatin and carryin on. Had a whole video of Heartbreak Hotel anyway already....upon first breath in the exhibit...just to set the stage, so to speak.

The portraits of the Beatles were great. The work on Grace Jones was priceless. i wasn't impressed with the Michael Jackson photos, suprisingly - there were less than 8. And how do Biggie, Jay-Z, LL Cool J, Salt N Peppa, or Puff Daddy figure into the Rock n Roll equation? Please tell me before I tell someone off. I didn't see Eminem in the equation anywhere - where was that punk rappers portrait. Actually that Momma said knock you out was a real crossover. lemme shut up then. aight i'm off.

big balls

The Giants lost today, ending their run to defend their Championship reign. Not a big deal, but definitely something that I could have had fun with over the next few weeks. Oh well...big dose of chokage in the O-line of the Giants and of course, the now-panicky again Eli Manning. Tuff stuff youngblood.

But tonight was also the golden Globes and when it's 25 degrees outside I can definitely appreciate looking at Angelina and Beyonce, and Jennifer Lopez, and Penelope Cruz for a while. What I noticed was, that while second rate white actors were in the audience, second rate black actors definitely weren't....interesting, huh? Maybe not, but it is an elite event I suppose.

Oh, one important thing, and the reason why I wanted to post: there was a shooting in Queens at the site of a music video where some thugs plugged among two others, a dude who was 33 with a wife and attempting to start a family. Here's what I want to know, is it possible to like extract sperm cells from him and keep them alive for some sort of posthumous conception with his wife so they can have children still? Is that crazy or brilliant? It has some kinda Seven Pounds wildness to it, but I think it has merit. I don't know - if my wife passed I would kinda want some of her eggs to raise some children - but then we'd need a surrogate carrier and all that, that's kinda different. I'm saying, for a fallen soldier in the field, you know that would be the shit...How long after death do the testes stop working or storing sperm cells? I'm just curious homey. Might have the next big operation!

no offense was intended with any of these statements at all. sorry if i fell short of sensitive.

The next time you hear from me i will have started using my intelligence to become more knowledgeable. it matters. so that doesn't mean you can just ask me any question and I'll have the answer, but it will mean that if you ask my opinion, I will have a viable, relevant answer. that's a start. If we're here to stretch his will, we're here to stretch his will. Stretch it with a little brainwork first.

rock bottom

Well. here I am. does it get much lower? homeless. jobless. mental case. hopefully not handicapped but maybe disabled. who am i right now and who's life have i taken authority over. not my own, i'm sure. how to flip this thing around before cast and crew are hurt for real? do i ask for more help - i mean from more than the usual parties...or do i stay the course until something opens up for me....cuz the usual joints don't seem to apply here. like Common said, i'm just opening my mental window for alittle while so maybe u'll climb in or just look in. likely a quick look will afford you a laugh. not at my expense, however, cuz i'm broke.